Rag Doll
by Anne Oying
Summary: Simply Sally's story; her stitches, her song, her Skellington...
1. Am I?

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not Tim Burton, nor do I own Disney, Touchstone, Skellington Productions or that swirly hill thing...**

**AN: Something I've been working on the past few days... I was going to post it all as a oneshot but... I am experiencing what can only be described as a Monster Writers Block... I'm talking Godzilla sized...**

**I wrote it in the same style as my Godfather ficlet, it worked quite nicely for that... also it's written a bit weirdly because... well, it's Sally, what were you expecting?**

* * *

><p>"Aha! Success! She lives!"<p>

I open my eyes.

"Here, my dear, stand up – if you think you can," a kind voice, it belongs to an unkind man. At least he looks unkind, I don't know.

I blink.

"Come on now, it's not too hard, just lift up a leg – that's it! Now the other one – marvellous!"

I am standing.

**I am alive.**

* * *

><p>"Now, to name you…" the man – my creator – puts a finger to his chin and taps it.<p>

I look out the… window, I believe it is called. I notice that the landscape has been cut in half. Whoever cut it did not do a very good job, where the two halves meet – where it should be smooth – there are weird jagged shapes sticking out, ruining the line. I don't care , it is very pretty, to me at least…

"Hm, has to be two syllables – so you'll recognise it easier," he frowns, "Rona? Mona? Karen? Sharon? Linda? Cinda? Trudy? Judy?"

… the top half is dull and dark, boring even to me, everything should be new and exciting for me and it is boring. The bottom half is black and mysterious. It is not flat like the top, I can see flickers of 3D in the shadows, illuminated by small squares of yellow…

"Glenda? Brenda? Marla? Carla? Missy? Sissy? Anna? Hannah?"

… the top half does have its attractions though. There is one… two… three small dots of light tossed across the navy strip. As far away from each other as they could get, as if they are repulsed by the mere sight of their counterparts. I notice that the navy becomes more intense in the areas around these dots, as if a layer of dust has been blown off them…

"Kayleigh? Hayley? Molly? Hollie? Sheena? Mina? Sally? Jane? Elaine?"

"Sally." It sticks out to me. Different from the other names somehow.

"Are you sure?" he clearly wasn't asking me, merely thinking aloud, but he doesn't want us to start off on the wrong foot.

I nod.

"Sally it is then," he nods and writes it down on my "birth certificate".

**I am Sally.**

* * *

><p>Sitting in my room, sewing of course, what else? I need the practise, so I can fix myself, should the need arise.<p>

But if it should, my creator will be around to help, I am never away from his side. I have never been outside the laboratory. I have a good view of the town from my room. As I sew, I look out and watch the world.

I am not allowed outside, "Too much excitement!" my creator had cried.

My creator. He wants me to call him "father" but I can't. I know what a father is - from reading - and he is no father. He is too old – too distant – I am not his daughter, I am his accomplishment. I won him an award.

He never leaves either. Always stays to watch me. Not because he cares or loves me, but because he fears. Fears that I shall run away - be kidnapped - have an accident and he shall lose me; his accomplishment. His award.

He has no friends and nor do I. The lab assistant avoids me, fears me. He helped create me, and he fears me because of it – thinks I resent him for giving me life.

And so I sit, friendless and sewing. In my room.

**I am lonely.**

* * *

><p>Outside. At last. I convinced my creator to let me out. His legs were crushed in an experiment gone wrong and he needs to visit the doctor every week for physiotherapy. He still won't leave me alone – doesn't trust the assistant – and so I go with him so he can watch me. He cannot watch me whilst I am in the waiting room and he is with the doctor. Except, I am only in the waiting room for two minutes; when we arrive and when we leave, to make him believe I am waiting for him. The therapy takes an hour.<p>

For fifty eight minutes once a week, I have a life.

**I am outside.**

* * *

><p>I am outside. My leg has fallen off. I have not brought a needle with me. My heart – my small, fragile heart – cannot take it. I will be late, my creator will know – if I make it back. Which I won't, without my leg.<p>

Now I know what my creator meant about too much excitement, my heart cannot take it. I am lying in a heap, where I tripped after the loose thread attached to my leg got caught on a thorn. On a rose. The first rose I have ever seen in real life – not in a book – in real life. I guess this is irony, I had been searching for a rose. Curiosity unravelled the leg.

A shadow, a small gasp.

"Are you alright?" concern. A male voice.

A boot crunches a leave, one of my leaves. I am lying on a mound of my own stuffing; mostly leaves.

"No," I whisper, my first conversation with an outsider. My heart beats faster, trying to escape me, looking for someone with a better chance of survival.

"Is this your leg?" the owner of the shadow tenderly lifts my lost appendage and shows it to me.

"Yes," I get out. I realise that I am panting and sobbing. Mostly panting, created by my increasing heart rate.

"Do you feel any pain?" he sounds unsure, I do not think that he has ever encountered a legless rag doll having a panic attack before.

"No," this is true. Besides my chest. Accomplishments do not feel pain, but my heart – my small, fragile heart – is not an accomplishment. It is a real heart. I do not know where it came from, but it is small and fragile and real and it can feel.

"I'm sorry," the shadow owner speaks, "I am not used to this type of situation," he admits, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Sew," I gasp out, putting a hand on my heaving chest.

"Do you have a needle? Or thread?"

"No," I confess, mentally slapping myself. I have forgotten my needle, "Thread…" I say and gesture to my skein, hidden in a patch on my thigh, "…no…," gasp, pant, sob, "…needle…"

"I see," replies the shadow owner. He thinks for a minute then snaps his fingers, "I know!" he unbuttons his shirt and cracks a rib, pulling out the sharp, skinny bone, "Maybe this will work…"

"No…," sob, pant, gasp, "…eye…"

"Hm," he frowns, he places a pointed finger near the blunter end of the bone and quickly spins his hand around. His twirling finger drills a hole in the bone, he puts the thread through, "Uh, can you sew?"

I nod and attempt to take the makeshift needle but my chest will not let me. I collapse onto the ground and try to steady my small, fragile heart.

"Don't strain yourself," he says kindly, "I may not be the best tailor in town, but I know the basics… it won't look pretty though," he warns.

He tries to be gentle when inserting the pointy tip into my skin, not knowing of my imperviousness to pain. I appreciate the gesture, my creator just haphazardly stabs into me.

With each thrust my heartbeat decreases, he speaks to me in a low and soothing voice, telling me that I will be fine. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, my sobs terminate.

Eventually I feel him bite the thread and I am sad, I do not want him to stop talking.

"There you go," he helps me up, supporting me as I hobble a bit. He has joined my calf to my knee at an awkward angle, noticing this, he grins sheepishly at me.

"Sorry, I did try to warn you," he chuckles nervously.

I smile at him, shy.

"Here, let me make it up to you," he looks around and spots the rose. He plucks it from the ground and bashfully offers it to me, "I know it won't help you walk, but…," he struggles, "It sure is pretty," he offers, grinning.

I beam at him and take it from his skeletal hand.

"Thanks," I say.

"My name is Jack, by the way," he stuffs his rib back inside his shirt and offers me his hand.

"Sally," I say, taking it warily. This is the first word I have said that is more than two syllables.

"Nice to meet you Sally, it's weird, I thought I knew everyone in Halloween Town, if not by name then by face, where do you live?" he frowns thoughtfully.

"The laboratory," I point to it.

His eye sockets bulge, "Dr. Finklestein's laboratory?"

"Yes," if I could blush, I would. It dawns on him that he is talking to a creation, not a real being, a fantasy… an accomplishment.

And yet, he smiles at me, "I'll be sure to swing by some time, see you later, Sally."

"Bye," I almost whisper as he saunters away on his stilt legs.

He isn't repulsed by me…

I head back to the waiting room, I am late. My creator is angry but I do not care.

**I am smiling.**

* * *

><p>I have not been outside since that day when I met Jack. My creator has given up his therapy and resigned himself to a wheelchair. He is crabbier than ever, he had to replace a valve in my heart.<p>

"I nearly lost you!" he said to me, looking over my shoulder at his trophy.

I am still recuperating from the heart surgery. I had Igor – the lab assistant – push my bed up to the window so I can observe life more easily.

Once or twice I have been fortunate to see Jack passing by in the street below. He seems to be very popular, everyone knows his name. I think that he is some kind of celebrity, I could have sworn I heard my creator mention his name once.

I am still waiting for him to "swing by".

I hope he does soon, my mind is unravelling faster than my leg did, that fateful day.

I look at my rose, it started to droop so I pressed it in a book and hung it on my wall, in a frame.

I look at it and wish.

**I am waiting.**

* * *

><p>Jack still hasn't swung by, I am getting restless. I have made a decision; if he won't come see me, then I shall go to see him.<p>

I am not an idiot, I have made sure that my heart has completely healed before I do this.

I squeeze my eyes shut and step forward into nothingness.

I hear some gasps as I hit the ground and my limbs separate. I have seen enough to know that detachable limbs are not uncommon around here, (I even saw a clown with a detachable face) it is probably the shock of a rag doll dropping out of the sky that prompted the gasps. The staring stops as I pick myself up and sew myself back together. I get some admiring looks at my presumed stoicness, most monsters can feel pain after all.

I smile wryly at the remaining gawkers and set off, that Deadly NightShade won't last forever.

I don't know where I am going, I realise this. I stop a vampire and ask if he knows where Jack is.

"Jack Skellington?" he booms, his entourage of fellow vampires gasp.

I hazard a guess, "Yes."

"I believe I saw him head towards the fountain in the middle of town," the vampire answers.

"Thanks," I say sincerely, I just hope that it is the right Jack.

I head towards the fountain then stop.

Jack is there alright, he is not alone.

He is mobbed by groupies, witches, mermaids, monsters – every female of every species it seems – they are cooing, stroking his arms and giggling at his jokes.

I stop a random ghoul, "Who is that?" I point to Jack.

"Jack Skellington? He's the Pumpkin King! The cream of the crop, the best there is at scaring! They don't get any better than him! He's a hero! Could have any girl he wants, and has plenty of opportunity too!" the ghoul waggles his eyebrows.

I nod at him cordially and back away. My eyes start to dampen. My heart speeds up, testing its new valve. I wish I didn't have a real heart, I wish I had a cold, unfeeling, mouldy bit of cloth, to match the rest of me.

I wish that Jack wasn't famous. A poseur. A liar. I wish that he'd come to visit me, then I could have a higher opinion of him. I wish he couldn't have any girl he wanted. Then he could have me.

I run back to the laboratory where my creator has awoken and punishes me.

I was an idiot to ever think that Jack was just an ordinary man, a nice man, a helpful, thoughtful, kind man. Not an egotistical, womanising, jerk-man.

I let out a small cry.

**I am a fool.**

* * *

><p>I spend the next few months obediently in my room. I am polite to my creator. I am cordial to Igor. I am a quiet, helpful little servant, who does what she is told without question or back talk. I moved my bed away from the window, no longer interested in what is going on out there…<p>

…I still occasionally look out though. I have forgotten all about Jack Skellington. I never think about Jack Skellington. I have not seen Jack Skellington since the day I drugged my creator and escaped.

Jack who?

I look out again. He shouldn't stop me from being free. I feel as if he is the one who locked me in my room.

I mix a potion and slip it to my creator, he isn't suspicious, I make him lunch every day.

An eye squeeze and a jump later and I am outside again. The wind lifts my hair in a pleasant way. I close my eyes.

**I am back.**

* * *

><p>Walking through the streets. Enjoying myself. I have spoken to people and am recognised as a citizen, hats have been tipped and heads nodded at me.<p>

Inevitably, I see him. But I need not worry, I have forgotten who he is, and he me.

Sally who?

Jack who?

"Sally!" he beams and waves. I politely wave back.

He steps over the crowd with his stilt-legs and grins at me, "How have you been?"

"Fine," I thought that I had gotten past one syllable answers…

"Sorry I didn't come visit, the mayor's been running me ragged with the planning for Halloween this year! I barely have time just to collapse on the fountain to cool down!" he laughs, "What have you been up to?"

"The usual," he does not know what the usual usually is for me. He smiles anyway.

"Great! Well, I've gotta go, say hi to Finky for me!"

"Bye," back to one syllable.

My creator. I run home again and am locked in my room. I look out my window.

I have a whole life out there.

**I am restless.**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, yeah. I was bored the other day so I stuck in a random DVD, guess what movie it was! I haven't seen it in ages! It brought back so many memories! I just love the JackSally thing, I don't know, it just makes me feel fuzzy. The writing and grammar stuff is supposed to be weird by the way... :\**


	2. Was I?

**Disclaimer: Shocking, yes, but I don't own it**

**AN: Well, this chapter is relatively short, but that's because the next chapter is (drum roll pleease) the start of the movie! Whooo! **

* * *

><p>I have been reading a lot more lately. I read before, for recreational purposes, but now I read not for fun and whimsy, but out of necessity.<p>

I have decided that I must escape, forever. I am a prisoner here, a servant, an experiment, an accomplishment.

Where will I go?

What will I do?

How will I do it?

Why do you think I am reading?

**I was learning.**

* * *

><p>Deadly NightShade.<p>

I have used it previously on my creator, store bought, own brand junk that wears off too quickly for my taste. I am fast becoming skilled at potion brewing and have researched said herb extensively.

I know where to find some.

Regrettably, I will not have long to retrieve it as I will have to use the store bought rubbish to slip out.

I root around in the cupboard for the jar. There is one sprig left, this is my only chance. My creator bought it a long while ago whilst undergoing his physiotherapy, to help him to sleep through the pain.

I slip it into his tea. My book tells me to disguise the smell, I reach for some Frog's Breath and cross my fingers, hoping this will work.

I cough as the overpowering and bitter odour erupts from the frog in a dusty cloud of mossy green. I pinch my nose, the scent is more than capable of masking any trace of Deadly NightShade.

I bring the tainted tea out to my creator who suspiciously inhales the steam coming off it, he grins as the stench enters his nostrils, "Ah, frog's breath! How did you know it was my favourite?"

I smile coyly, "A creation can always tell," I giggle stupidly.

I zip to my bedroom and jump out the window, not sparing a second.

**I was hurrying.**

* * *

><p>There seems to be some kind of festivity being prepared for.<p>

Everyone is rushing around, hanging things up, sweeping the streets and talking excitedly.

I am unnoticeable as I zip through the crowd towards the graveyard.

In the graveyard, however, I am much more noticeable, particularly to a certain womanising Pumpkin King.

I duck down behind a tombstone before he has the chance to turn round and spot me.

I watch as he cracks his rib bone (I can't tell if it's the same one he used to sew me with) and throws it away.

Suddenly a transparent wisp whizzes after it.

I half expect the bone to drop straight through the wisp's mouth but the wisp soon floats back and drops the bone at Jack's feet.

He pets its head (again, I would think that his hand would melt straight through) and throws the bone again, this time towards me.

Actually, the bone flies right over the tombstone and into my lap.

My heart speeds up as the wisp trots over to me.

"Shh," I whisper as I hand the wisp the bone. Up close, I can see that it is some kind of ghost-dog.

The dog stares at me curiously and cocks its head. I stare back, just as curious.

"Zero? Where are you, boy?" Jack's voice makes up both jump and I catch Zero's eye as he goes to leave.

_Don't tell him, _my gaze says.

He looks back uncertainly but nods before barking off back to his master.

"Good boy, Zero," he pats his head again, "But what ever took you so long, hm?"

Zero barks innocently as I put a hand over my racing heart.

"Oh well," I can hear the shrug in Jack's voice as he continues to play fetch with his ghostly companion.

"Jack! I knew I'd found you here!"

"No you didn't! I did! You wanted to check behind the Cyclops's eye!"

I sneak a peek to see two witches approaching Jack.

"Hi ladies," he greets charmingly, "Brew any good potions lately?"

"Only love ones, Jack," I can hear the swoon in her voice.

My stomach churns.

"That's nice…," his tone says otherwise. "Have any of them worked?"

"You tell us, Jack," the one who was talking attempts a flirtatious giggle which comes out as a manic cackle.

"Heh heh," Jack attempts to laugh. I don't pretend.

The three of them look in my direction as I let out a particularly loud snort but Zero covers for me with a sneeze.

"Poor Zero, you'll catch your death of cold out here!" the witches cackle at this, "We'd best be going home."

I hear the relief in his voice that he's found an excuse to leave, which, of course, sets my heart off again.

Maybe he doesn't like the female attention…

He can have any girl that he wants…

… but maybe he doesn't want any…

I'm smiling as I pick the Deathly Nightshade.

**I was hopeful**

* * *

><p>This time I return home before my creator awakes.<p>

Just.

I was about to close my window when he came storming in.

"You traitorous pile of rags!" he growls as he wheels over to me, "Deadly NightShade, huh?" How could you? To your own creator!"

"I've done it before," I snap rebelliously, "And I'll do it again!" I declare.

He glowers at me, "Don't you use that tone with me, young lady! You're just some lowly rag doll! _I _am a renowned scientist! _I _-,"

"You wouldn't be renowned if it weren't for me!" I cry.

He draws back a hand, as if to slap me, but thinks better of it, "It's just a phase," he mutters as he leaves, locking the door behind him.

I am shaking. My heart won't slow down. I am smiling.

**I was rebelling **

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yeah, not as good as the first one, the next one will be super awesome to make up for it though ;P<strong>

**Thanks for the reviews guys, they keep me writing ;D**


	3. But I?

**Disclaimer: ...I own the DVD... ?*crickets chirp***

**A/N: Yayness! It's the movie! It's kind of rubbish in some places where I've attempted to tag the songs on to Sally's thoughts. And I've also made some minor modifications, all in the name of the plotline! Hey, if you want an exact replica of the movie then go watch it, ok? It's to give Sally a slightly more happy ending... *spoiler* keep an eye (or two) on that Hanging Tree... ;P **

**Also, the dialogue and songs from the movie I got from an online transcript and then double checked by watching the movie with subtitles... just thought I'd mention that... *shuts up and gets back in cage***

* * *

><p>"<strong>Hal-low-een <strong>also **Hal-low-e'en **[ˌhæləʊˈiːn]

The eve of All Saints' Day celebrated on Oct. 31 by masquerading; All Hallows Eve"

I read this aloud, I like the taste it leaves on my tongue.

"Halloween."

That's the holiday everyone has been preparing for, the holiday that our town is named after, the holiday that is on tonight!

I _have _to get out, I can't miss Halloween, I don't care if my creator unravels me and sews himself a new coat.

My thoughts stop as I hear something outside…

_Boys and girls of every age_

_Wouldn't you like to see something strange?_

_Come with us and you will see_

_This, our town of Halloween._

There is something about the distant murmurings that excites me. I feel like one of the children for which the song is made for.

_This is Halloween, this is Halloween_

_Pumpkins scream in the dead of night_

"Sally!" I jump, half expecting a pumpkin to have screamed my name, "Hurry up with my dinner! You wouldn't let an old man starve now would you?"

"Of course not!" I call back, rushing excitedly to the kitchen, seeing my chance.

_This is Halloween, everybody make a scene_

_Trick or treat 'til the neighbours gonna die of fright_

_It's our town, everybody scream_

_In this town of Halloween_

The voices are getting louder… closer. My heart rate increases with the volume.

_I am the one hiding under your bed_

_Teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red_

I decided to just throw something in the microwave – wanting to escape as quickly as possible.

_I am the one hiding under your stairs_

_Fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair._

I stare at the rotating food, trying to ignore my creator's shouts and focus on the crescendo of music.

_This is Halloween, this is Halloween_

_Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!_

The microwave dings as a small collection of eerie voices take over the song.

_In this town we call home_

_Everyone hail to the pumpkin song_

The loud, almost comical voice of the mayor chimes in.

_In this town, don't we love it now?_

_Everybody's waiting for the next surprise_

"Sally!"

"Just a minute!" I root around for the familiar jar of Deadly NightShade.

_Round that corner, man hiding in the trash can_

_Something's waiting now to pounce, and how you'll…_

I reach in and grab a large handful, hoping that more herbs equal more time.

_Scream! This is Halloween_

_Red 'n' black, slimy green_

_Aren't you scared?_

"Here it is, enjoy!" I smile sweetly, luckily he's too hungry to test it – all the frog's breath in the swamp wouldn't be able to disguise the overwhelming amount of Deadly NightShade in there.

_Well, that's just fine_

_Say it once, say it twice_

_Take a chance and roll the dice_

_Ride with the moon in the dead of night_

I recognise the scratchy cackle of those two witches that were all over Jack the other day…

Jack…

_Everybody scream, everybody scream_

No, he's no good – he's shallow and, and, and he's a womaniser and he's…

_In our town of Halloween_

… he's out of my league…

I sigh.

The chances are that I'll bump into him…

I grab a comb – there's no crime in looking presentable.

_I am the clown with the tear-away face_

_Here in a flash and gone without a trace_

I stick my head out the window and continue brushing, not wanting to miss the celebrations over vanity.

_I am the "Who" when you call, "Who's there?"_

_I am the wind blowing through your hair_

A gust of wind suddenly blows through my hair in a playful fashion, I giggle quietly and throw my hands out, enjoying the feel of it.

_I am the shadow on the moon at night_

_Filling your dreams to the brim with fright_

There's something especially sinister about that shadow… I shake my head, I'm being silly.

I put down the comb and prepare to jump.

_This is Halloween, this is Halloween_

_Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!_

I begin the annoying process of gathering up my limbs and sewing them back on.

_Tender lumplings everywhere_

_Life's no fun without a good scare_

I waste time looking for a rogue hand.

After a bit of head swivelling and calling, it teasingly taps me on the shoulder.

_That's our job, but we're not mean_

_In our town of Halloween_

I tut disapprovingly and quickly sew it back on before trotting towards the voices.

_In this town_

_Don't we love it now?_

_Everyone's waiting for the next surprise_

I approach the edge of the crowd in time to see them wheeling in some sort of pumpkin-headed scarecrow.

_Skeleton Jack might catch you in the back_

_And scream like a banshee_

_Make you jump out of your skin_

_This is Halloween, everybody scream_

_Won't ya please make way for a very special guy_

_Our man Jack is king of the pumpkin patch_

_Everyone hail to the Pumpkin King now_

I watch and gasp with the crowd in wonder and awe as the scarecrow comes to live and begins an elaborate fire dance. I wonder how he hasn't burnt himself to a crisp.

_This is Halloween, this is Halloween_

_Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!_

The scarecrow suddenly somersaults into the fountain with a large fizzling splash. Some of the children crowd around and sweetly sing.

_In this town we call home_

_Everyone hail to the pumpkin song_

Jack emerges out of the water, his scarecrow guise having burnt away. I gasp loudly, completely mesmerised.

The crowd goes wild, singing a mixture of _Halloween _and _La la-la la _in a continuous excited loop as they wave their hands in the air as the Pumpkin King slowly and regally rises from the murky water.

As Jack exits the water and climbs up the fountain everyone begins clapping and cheering, including me. I understand why he has so many groupies… he's phenomenal!

I'm running out of time, my creator will wake up soon…

I should go

**But I don't**

* * *

><p>I watch dreamily as everyone mingles and excitedly congratulates each other – especially Jack! From what I can gather the Mayor seems to be his biggest groupie. I giggle at the thought and one of the skeletons on the Hanging Tree which I'm hiding behind turns and notices me.<p>

"Hey! It's Sally!" he cries in a raspy voice – not surprising considering he has a rope around his neck.

"Sally?" All the skeletons turn round to gawp at me.

"Sally!" they cry and reach out to me I smile nervously and take a step back only to be snatched away by my creator.

"The Deadly NightShade you slipped me wore off, Sally," he hisses at me, his small hand like a vice around my arm.

"Let go!" I cry, wanting more time.

"You're not ready for so much excitement!" he cries melodramatically, beginning to drag me back to the lab.

"Yes I am!" I know I am, my heart may be about to burst out of my handmade chest – but what's new?

"You're coming with me!" he declares as if I have to obey him.

Maybe a few months ago that would have been true, before I entered my "phase". It's too late to exit now anyway.

An idea smacks me in the face, "No I'm not!" I cry as I pull out the thread that's holding my arm and make a run for it.

I hear him tumble out of his chair and scream after me, "Come back here you foolish oaf!" I feel my arm bonking him on the head and hear his shout of surprised pain and I can't help but giggle.

I know its mean.

**But I can't help myself.**

* * *

><p>Sitting in the cold graveyard, crouched down behind a tombstone, I'm beginning to regret leaving so hastily and cruelly. It'll take a good couple of hours before my creator's temper has simmered down enough for me to be able to go home and I have nothing to do to pass the time.<p>

I sigh sadly and rearrange the stuffing in my separated arm.

I jump – startled - as I hear the gates to the graveyard squeak – and zip round to the other side of the tombstone to hide from whoever's entering, I hope it's not my creator.

I peer over the top and gasp at the lean figure who enters.

Jack!

I want to run over to him and congratulate him and hug him and shake his hand… and, of course, tell him that he looks very handsome in his pinstriped suit.

But I don't, I have dignity and a rapidly accelerating heartbeat.

He looks really focused and absorbed, his brow is furrowed and he has a finger on his chin as if he is pondering something.

Maybe he's mentally negotiating dome big important political arrangement that will affect the town's everyday life drastically and shake the citizens to their core…

He pauses his pondering to pat his leg to summon Zero from his kennel/grave.

He leans on a headstone – still looking thoughtful and opens his mouth.

For a moment I think that he has spotted me and is getting ready to call on me but then I realise that he is singing…

_There are few who'd deny, at what I do I am the best_

_For my talents are renowned far and wide_

_When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night_

Ugh! How egotistical! I can't believe I thought that his ponders would effect the foundations of our town's very being!

_I excel without ever even trying_

_With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms_

_I have seen grown men give out a shriek_

_With the wave of my hand, and a well-placed moan_

_I have swept the very bravest off their feet_

I can't believe this! He could never love someone back! He's already in love with somebody… his own!

I am just about to sulk away when the mood of the song changes drastically…

_Yet year after year, it's the same routine_

_And I grow so weary of the sound of screams_

_And I, Jack, the Pumpkin King_

_Have grown so tired of the same old thing_

I gasp and cock my head, my thoughts made incoherent at the intense yearning and emotion in his lament.

_Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones_

_An emptiness began to grow_

_There's something out there, far from my home_

_A longing that I've never known_

Under the spell of the song - I can't help myself – I find myself creeping closer to him, trying to remain unnoticeable in the shadows.

_I'm the master of fright, and a demon of light_

_And I'll scare you right out of your pants_

_To a guy in Kentucky, I'm Mister Unlucky_

_And I'm known throughout England and France_

I continue to gravitate towards him, gravestone to gravestone - trying to remain invisible – knowing that he'll stop if he discovers me.

Zero notices me and cocks his head but remains schtum. I smile at him, good old Zero.

_And since I am dead, I can take off my head_

_To recite Shakespearean quotations_

_No animal nor man can scream like I can_

_With the fury of my recitations_

Zero turns back and smiles at him innocently as the mood lightens – he's back to bragging. I think that he's kind of embarrassed that he let himself get so emotional.

That doesn't mean that he's stopped his touching lament.

_But who here would ever understand_

_That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin_

_Would tire of his crown, if they only understood_

_He'd give it all up if he only could_

I gasp.

I want to join in with my own verse – I know exactly what to say – to let him know that _I _understand! But my heart won't let me – my stupid, real, fragile heart won't let me!

Instead I look on sadly, half hoping that he'll notice me and recognise the empathy and understanding in my eyes.

My heart won't even let me get caught as he turns round to face my side of the graveyard I gasp and duck back behind the stone.

_Oh, there's an empty place in my bones_

_That calls out for something unknown_

_The fame and praise come year after year_

_Does nothing for these empty tears_

I stay behind my stone – my heat is controlling my teeth and is forcing them to bite down hard on my lip to stop me from calling down until I'm absolutely sure that he's gone.

I sigh in frustration and love… love?

Yes, I believe that is what I'm feeling for our dear old Pumpkin King.

That wonderfully horrible, dedicatedly fickle, unfortunately lucky emotion I've read about time after time.

I come out of my hiding place and lean against the stone.

"Jack," I whisper, extending my arm out as if to touch the lingering melancholy feeling left by his song, "I know how you feel."

I want to run after him and tell him this. This and much more. I want to sing to him – with him…

**But I can't**

Stupid heart.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Angsty much? Hehe, Sally's maturing! Some of her speech is still quite awkward and bumpy but at least she's using words like _don't _instead of _do not_ etc **

**Though she is waffling on about her heart a bit too much for my liking but *sigh* tis for the good of the plotline... **

**And yes, falling in love at first sound, well, that's Disney/Touchstone for ya ;D**

**Thanks again for the reviews peeps, it's nice to know that I've not massacred a classic ;P**


End file.
